high on hairspray
by rocketwanda
Summary: jessie gets a new hair spray but gets high. really funny. compleated. rocketshippyish


This is my first fan fiction so bear with me. err i own a pet rabbit called leo.

**Hairspray high!**

Oh no!" a panicked Jesse squeaked to her partner. "James! I'm in big trouble!"

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned for her. Although he'd just awoken ten minutes before, he shared in her fear and traces of worry appeared on his face.

"I can't believe it! Oh, I'm so scared!" She was racing around the small camp in a blurred streak, turning everything over in search of an item obviously vital to her. "Where is it!"

It was easy for James to empathize; perhaps a bit too easy with Jesse. "Jesse! What is it? What are you looking for!"

Panting, she came to stand in front of him. He could see how frightened she was-- her skin was paling. "I can't find my… my…"

"Your what?"

"My hairspray!"

His eyes widened as he realized the urgency of the situation. Jesse needed her hairspray-- without it, her hair wouldn't curl, and if her hair didn't curl… it didn't even warrant thinking of.

Off to the side, Meowth watched unnoticed. He'd just returned from the lake, where he'd dumped her hairspray. It wasn't that he had turned against Jesse and James-- no, far from it. All he was trying to do was teach the two a lesson: Sometimes, you've gotta put duty before beauty.

So far, it was turning out okay; more or less how he'd expected. With any luck, Jesse would calm down in ten to fifteen minutes, put her hair in a bun or some such thing, and they'd be on their way.

Twenty minutes came and went, and she was hyperventilating while James tried to find her a paper bag.

"Don't worry, Jesse! It'll be alright! We'll find your hairspray!" Suddenly, he refrained from his search and stood up straight with an idea shining in his eyes. "I know! You can go in and get it done professionally!"

Jesse cracked a grin and sprung up to hug him. "Yes! That's perfect!" The two pulled away after embracing each other just a microsecond more than they really should have. "Let's go!"

Left in the dust, Meowth scowled. This was definitely not going the way he'd planned. The stylists would take forever to fix Jesse's hair-- there was really no point in waiting for them to return. His best bet was just to catch up on his sleep, and that's precisely what he proceeded to do.

Truthfully, Jesse's hair looked fine without hairspray-- it hung to around her knees and moved beautifully when the slight breeze picked it up. Any woman would be envious of its length and luster; any man would want to run his fingers through it. That is, any man and woman except Jesse and James.

Sure, Jesse knew her hair was naturally captivating, and sure, James had to struggle not to touch it. But the two of them had to hide those feelings. If anyone from Team Rocket spotted Jesse's hair like that with James' hands in it, they'd both be teased about it endlessly. Word could get to The Boss, who, as all Team members knew, would do something horrible to them if he found out that the Team Rocket Hair Code had been violated.

Taboos don't get much worse.

Having run all the way to the salon, Jesse and James dragged their feet in while panting, drained of energy. But just because the trip wore them out didn't mean they were any less determined.

"We have an emergency!" James announced to the staff, who were still rubbing their eyes in the early morning hour and sipping steaming mugs of coffee.

"Please, please! You've got to help me!"

The young green-haired woman at the front desk lazily brought her gaze up away from the newspaper she'd been reading.

She took one look at Jesse's hair and spit her mouthful of coffee all over her comics. "Oh, for the love of God… Get in that chair, right now!"

In a flash, Jesse was in the seat the woman had pointed at, ready and willing. James stood looking at her with big, green, puppy dog eyes, hoping these people had what it would take to save her. Evidently, they were aware of the Team Rocket Hair Code.

"I'll be okay now, James," she told him, beginning to sound a little unsure herself.

The four or five stylists who'd been bustling since glancing at his poor partner moved in on her in a big cloud. One of them assured him she'd be alright. "Don't worry. She's in good hands."

Even though he couldn't pick which one had spoken from the puff of dust encircling Jesse, he nodded and tried to calm down.

"There's a waiting room to your left," another voice informed him.

Again, he bobbed his head, but this time left the operation for the quiet, peaceful room off to the side. "I'll be here, Jesse," he shouted as an afterthought just before pulling the door shut.

All he could do now was wait.

For two hours, he paced the little room.

Then he checked the wall clock that seemed to tick louder than he could think, and realized it was closing in on three hours.

During that time, he'd acquired a pipe and instantaneously learned how to smoke it like a pro.

It did not, however, do anything to soothe his wracked nerves. Only good news about Jesse would.

The door finally opened some time later, and the woman from the front counter stepped in. "Congratulations sir! It's a curl!"

He threw the pipe off to the side and smiled in relief.

"You're lucky you got her in as soon as you did. Any later and she might not have pulled through."

"May I see her?" Very eager to do so, he started for the door, but the stylist stopped him.

"No! We have to feed the elephants first!" She produced an empty hand with imaginary elephant food in it and held it out to the air while giggling. "Ooh, that tickles!"

Obviously, James found this both confusing and disturbing, but he couldn't let this bother him. He had a new curl to see.

Using his raw strength, he easily shoved the rag-doll woman out of his way. "Jesse?" he called to her when he stepped into the salon.

Someone had turned a spotlight on him, or something-- he had to shield his eyes against the intense glare and he couldn't see a thing.

"Oh, James! Isn't it the most beautiful curl you've ever seen?"

"I can't see, Jesse! It's too bright in here!"

An unannounced hand rested on his shoulder. "You might wanna try theeeese babies," a man's voice said. A pair of sunglasses was smoothly slid onto his face.

Suddenly, everything was visible.

Jesse's hair looked great. Actually, it was glowing with radiance. "Wow, Jesse. What a curl."

And he couldn't forget the stylist who had given him the power to see. "Thank you for the sunglasses. What exactly was that light?"

"My curl!" Jesse chimed with a bit more spunk than usual.

"Yeah, man, her hair is super shiny and reflective and stuff. It's way groovy. Can ya dig it?"

"Um… yeah…"

"KOOL AID!"

It seemed that all the stylists were acting and talking strangely. The other four were doing some sort of cheer together, using mousse cans and spraying them everywhere for pom-poms. This didn't deter him, though. He just paid for the operation, bought a few dozen cans of hairspray, and the two left the circus salon for camp.

"Jesse, you haven't said a word since we left that salon. Is everything alright?"

"Sh! Listen…" She shot her arm out to stop him in his tracks while she stood absolutely still beside him. Their camp was only a few dozen meters away and was just visible from the dense forest trail they were following.

His arms were killing him. Thirty-six bottles of hairspray was not a light load, and he couldn't wait to dump it all onto the ground and maybe go for a swim.

"I said sh!"

"But I didn't say-"

"There you go again! You scared them all away, James."

"Scared what away?"

She conspiratorially whispered, "The nail polish."

"Oh, no. Not you, too!" This was all he needed-- an insane partner. Hopefully, her condition would be short-lived.

"I know, U2 does suck!"

"Come on, Jesse. Let's go to our camp, okay?" He really didn't have much experience with crazy people, but he knew he could handle Jesse. Plus, he really needed to get the sack of hairspray off his back before damaging it for life. Carefully keeping an eye on her, he led her back to their site.

"Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine…" Jesse's beautiful but slurred voice filled the woods with song as they made it the short distance to their destination. "Never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine."

The last line of that song gave James an idea. "Say, you haven't had anything to drink this morning, have you?"

Chuckling, she threw her arm up around his shoulders, painfully knocking the bag against his side. "Uh-uh. Have you had anythingtodrink this morning? I don't think so! Nobody drinks in the morning! Except for yellow juice."

His shoulder stung as he tried, with no luck, to readjust the cargo. Jesse's breath was giving him an itch on the side of his face, but both of his hands were required to hold up the hairspray. "Yellow juice? Don't you mean orange juice? Lemonade, maybe? And could you scratch my cheek for me?"

"No! I mean yellow juice! You know, it comes from plaid fold-out sofas." After breathing on him some more with a furrowed brow, she proceeded to lick his ear.

That sent his pulse skyrocketing. "Uh… Jesse, I said scratch, not lick."

"Well, if you'd stand still and quit walking, maybe I could lick your cheek."

He didn't even notice they'd entered their camp until Jesse tripped over his sleeping bag. The hairspray fell from his hands, both from exhaustion and surprise, then he squatted down next to her. "You alright?"

"It's these stupid socks! They never let me stand uuuup!" Suddenly sobbing, she grabbed him and cried into his chest.

"But you just were standing." Maybe he could get used to this strange behavior if she kept on touching him like that.

"Nuh-uh! I was floating!" she wailed.

"It's okay… shh… why don't we go for a swim?"

"In what?"

"In that lake over there."

"No, what's in the lake?"

"Water…"

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"I suppose…"

Maybe she'd snap out of it once she hit the cold water. The water… they couldn't go swimming; her hair would get wet. "No, Jesse, we're not going swimming."

"Good. I didn't want my belly button to get stolen." Still, she clutched him like a lifeline. His arms were obviously around her, too, but they weren't squeezing her to death like she was doing to him.

"Jesse, could you-"

Without needing to hear the rest of his sentence, she moved back and loosened her grasp so she could look into his face. "You look soooo babelicious in those sunglasses, Jamesie."

"…Thanks…" Babelicous; was that a word? If so, he liked it. As long as Jesse was using it to describe him.

Squinting, she plucked the black glasses off of him and threw them into the plants.

Her hair was alright, it seemed. It wasn't giving off ultra-violet waves anymore.

Then Jesse settled right back into the iron-hard hug that made him wheeze.

James thought about trying to capture Pikachu, but they couldn't if she was acting like this. It would be an even greater embarrassment to the Team than being seen with her hair down. All there really was to do was figure out why she was acting like such a nut.

"Jesse, did they give you anything at the salon? Did you eat anything there?"

Releasing her death grip from his body, she crawled onto his lap and pushed him onto the ground so she could lay on him. "They did give me one thing…"

Poor James could barely speak. Her head was tucked right in under his chin. "What… what's that?"

"Dazzling, whiter teeth!"

A minute or two passed while he regained some dignity.

"Do you think you could… um… get off of me?"

No response.

"Jesse?"

Still nothing.

As carefully as he could, he rolled her off himself. He inspected her once she was on a sleeping bag, and concluded she was fast asleep.

In satisfaction, he sighed, thinking that she could sleep whatever it was off. Intent on making her nap as comfortable as possible, he snatched his extra blanket and draped it over her innocently unaware form.

Now, the only way to deduce why she was suddenly loopy was to go back to the place where it all began: the salon.

"Hello?" James called for the seventh time, extremely annoyed. Nobody answered, just like the last six times he'd tried.

A faint noise emanated from the waiting room he'd occupied just a short time before, so he decided to check it out.

Ready to yell at the stylists for such awful service, he angrily flung open the door. When he saw what was going on, he decided not to.

All five were playing Ring Around the Rosie, but with slightly different lyrics. Something to the effect of "Sing out loud to balogne," though the words changed each time around.

He was about to just turn around and leave, but then he thought of poor Jesse. If he couldn't help her, who would? Certainly not Meowth; James was sure he'd seen him snoozing in the corner of the campsite when he'd dropped Jesse off. How could that stupid cat be sleeping though such a traumatic event?

His mind made up, he made his demands. "What did you do to Jesse?"

"Woah, man, chill… hey, you're wearin' a real pretty wig… it'll be good for that Kleenex out there."

Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

"Yeah! Have you seen it? That Kleenex is fifty feel tall!"

No. Definitely not.

"I brought my friend in here earlier this morning. She's acting stoned. Why?"

"She's a rock!"

Chapter 2

Jesse was cooking in her underwear.

Meowth was asleep, but Jesse was cooking.

In her underwear.

First of all, Jesse couldn't cook for beans. Second of all, she was cooking what appeared to be a pair of his pants. Third of all, she was wearing a pair of day of the week underwear; Sunday, in fact. Fourth of all, it was Wednesday. And, fifth of all, her bra was a repulsive shade of hot pink. Now, finally, sixth of all?

She was cooking in her underwear.

"Oh, hi, James!" she chirped, noticing his presence and acting a bit too chipper. "Would you like some fried pants?"

Only because he was experiencing a severe temporary vocabulary deprivation did he say what he said. "What's in them?"

"Oh, you know, nothing special. Some grass, soil, bark. The pants are a secret recipe, though."

Not able to do much but walk all the way into their clearing, he dumbly said, "Oh," all the while staring at her.

Cooking in her underwear.

She skillfully flipped his hot folded formerly white pants with his favorite spatula and gingerly sprinkled some dead ants on them. They made a loud hissing noise when they hit the heat.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Oh, I know! You must want a nice, big welcome! Hang on, the pants are almost done."

He could only guess at what that meant. But, he had to admit-- whatever she was planning, it didn't sound half bad.

His mind did a double take: Jesse was cooking. In her underwear.

"Jesse?"

"I told you, it's coming!"

"Why are you… um… cooking?" Better he take this one step at a time.

"I got hungry for clothes! Besides, I haven't had pants in such a long time!" Picking the pan up, she put the fire out by smothering it with a huge slab of steak.

"A-And… why did you take your clothes off?"

She grabbed two plates, slipped the pants onto one, cut them cleanly in half with one of her spiked heels, then shoved a half onto the second plate. As she handed it to him, she answered, "Oh, the elves came by when you were gone."

For a reason he couldn't explain, he took the pants platter. "E-Elves?"

"Yeah, the elves. You know, they come around and take the stuff you're wearing so they can donate it to those poor homeless chocolate covered raisins."

Her fork picked up a piece of his pants, and just before she placed it on her tongue, her eyes widened. "I forgot your welcome! We'll have to get rid of these…" Tossing both of their 'lunches' into the bushes, she stood up.

Then she jumped on him.

Her force knocked him back onto the ground. Once again, he found her laying on him.

But there was one difference, besides the fact that she was seriously underdressed.

She was kissing him.

It was too hard for him to retain control of his mouth, so he mirrored her actions.

What a nice welcome.

"AH!"

Jesse didn't stop at Meowth's yell, but James snapped back from dreamland. He pushed her off of himself and sat up, panting harshly.

"Meowth! Get out of here!" He refused to have his dignity trampled like that in front of anyone sober.

It seemed as though the cat was both surprised and infinitely amused, but when he caught the look in James' eye, he knew he'd better bolt. So that's just what he did, heading off stunned beyond belief.

To collect himself, James shut his eyes and put a hand to his temple.

When he heard a soft sobbing, he looked back to Jesse, immediately concerned for her. "What's wrong?"

Keeping her distance, she continued crying and looked up to him. "You… you don't like me!"

He almost laughed out loud. "What! Of course I like you!"

She shook her head. "You don't like like me."

"Um… what makes you say that?"

"Well, you could've said something about me! Like, maybe, 'Hey, Jesse, nice butt,' or, ' Wow, Jesse, I like your outfit,' but instead," she sniffled, "You didn't even eat the fried pants I worked so hard on just for you, and you hated kissing me."

"That's not true, Jesse-- I loved kissing you. A lot. Probably more than I should have." James crawled over to her, careful not to scare her off.

"You… you did?" Her clasped hands flew up next to her chin and she dreamily smiled off into nowhere.

"Of course! I'm… um… nevermind." Saying that might not be such a great idea.

"What? You don't like like me?" With a sadder tone, she pouted, "I like like you."

Not entirely because he wanted to comfort her, he pulled her into his arms and leaned her against him. And, since she was confessing… and since she was completely high… "No. I don't just like like you. I… I… love you."

"Really?" she squeaked.

"Yes."

"I knew you loved me!"

"Um… oh."

"I love you, too!"

Despite his concern for her, he beamed brightly without having the ability to do much else.

"But why did you push me awaaaay?"

The truth would probably work best in this situation. As long as she could understand it. "I just didn't want our first kiss to be… um… I didn't want you to have… well… I… guess…" He wasn't sure if he understood himself. Sighing, he gave it one more go. "I wanted you to be completely here for our first kiss."

"Right. I suppose I shouldn't have been on the Planet of Pond, there."

Feeling a little flustered, he sardonically replied, "Glad you understand."

Suddenly smiling, she suggested, "Let's cuddle!"

He could see no harm in that. "Okay."

"Yipee!"

Once he'd recovered from the initial shock of hearing her say 'yipee,' he realized he was gently being pushed backwards onto his sleeping bag.

"Let's get these things off of you… just incase the elves come by again." He felt his boots get slid off, then his gloves, then his…

"That's enough, Jesse!" All he was allowing himself to look at was the tree tops, for he felt very guilty for staring at Jesse and not being able to tear his eyes away.

"You sure, Jamesie boy? They'd taste really good…"

"Um… no… let's… just… leave them right where they are.

Adorably, she sighed. "Oh, okay." She slipped onto the ground next to him and snaked her arms around his torso.

After he finally settled on where to put his arms around his scantily clad partner, he went for the burning question again. "Jesse, I need to ask you something extremely important, okay?"

"Well, okay, Jimmy."

"Are you going to answer me?"

"I guess so, Jimmy."

"Why are you calling me Jimmy?"

"That's not a very important question. Jimmy."

Any annoyance he might have felt had this been a more normal situation flew out the window at the mere thought that he was snuggling with her. "No. What I meant to ask was… why are you acting so strangely?"

"Oh, that's an eeeeasy one."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"What's the answer, then?"

"It's 'cuz I'm in loooove, Jimmy," she giggled into his ear. Of course, it was something he loved to hear, but he was desperately clawing at any shred of reality he could.

"I'm in love, too, and I'm not acting like you are."

"I have two words for ya, Jamesie. Bulimic Pork."

The day progressed as such, Jesse boldly flirting like no woman has flirted before, James trying not to give into temptation.

Poor, poor James.

When night fell upon their campsite, Meowth was watching them again from a tree. His plan had been a disaster and the day a wreck. He vowed never to steal Jesse's hairspray again.

And there was no way he would go back down there until Jesse sobered up. With what she was doing to James, who knew what she'd try on Meowth? The cat listened to their new little game for a few minutes and decided that he wouldn't be able to climb down for hours. Jesse still had more energy in her than the Energizer Bunny.

Though he had gotten next to nothing accomplished, Meowth was enjoying all his extra sleep. As he realized he had nothing else to do, he shut his eyes and catnapped again.

"Translucent Chocolate."

"Chocolate Batteries."

"Battery-Powered Applesauce!"

Jesse had come up with a strangely amusing game, and, after much effort on her part, persuaded James to play it with her.

The object was to think of band names using one of the words in the name from the previous person's turn. What they were saying didn't quite sound like band names, anymore, but neither cared.

"Cloud-Flavored Applesauce," James laughed, enjoying himself.

The pair lay on their stomachs facing each other, heads propped up on their hands. The dancing fire cast moving shadows that licked their smiling faces. Jesse had acquired one of James' black tee-shirts and a pair of his boxers and was proudly sporting them.

"Bulimic Pork!"

"Jesse, you can't keep saying that every five seconds."

"But Jimmy, it's bulimic pork!"

"Porkified Benadryl."

"Benadryllic Light Bulbs."

"Light Sumo Wrestlers."

"Sumo James!" She cracked herself up.

Honestly, he couldn't see the humor in that. "James' Jesse."

"Jurassic Jesse."

"Neo-Jurassic Rubber Duckies."

"Bulimic Pork!" Whenever she said it, she burst out laughing.

Suddenly, James felt very tired.

"You want to go to bed yet?"

"Maybe not."

"Yes or no?"

"Maybe. Not."

He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but an idea made its way into his hazy brain. "We can cuddle…" he hinted, trying to make it sound appealing.

"Oh, boy! Cuddle time! You're my big, sweet freddy bear!"

While Jesse eagerly awaited 'cuddle time,' James made his way into his sleeping bag and shut his eyes as soon as he was in it. He felt her slide in and put her back to his front, grabbing his arms and throwing them around her waist.Despite his weariness, her close location registered in his brain and he tightened his hold on her.

"James?"

"Yes, Jesse?"

"Call me Princess Lady Ma'am."

"Um… okay…"

"I have something big to tell ya, Jimmy."

"Call me James."

"Right, Jimmy. So, you ready?"

"Sure."

In a much quieter tone, she whispered, "Bulimic Pork."

"Goodnight, Jesse."

"Goodnight, Jam… Jimmy."

"James."

"Oh, is that what you're calling yourself these days?"

"Jesse, will you--"

"Goodnight! God, don't you ever shut up?"

"Goodnight."

If Jesse wasn't back to normal by the morning, he didn't know what he'd do. But he was much too close to sleep to think that she wouldn't be. As far as he was concerned, she'd wake up and be her normal, sober, painful self again.

Stoned Jesse was alright. Just as long as she got over it eventually.

Her hair smelled so sweet. That hairspray… what a lovely scent. He breathed in as much as he could. It was so pretty…

"Still awake, Jesse?" he whispered cautiously.

Her breathing had slowed, and she appeared to be out like a light, but she very well might be pretending. He knew just how to find out.

"Bulimic Pork?"

Nothing.

Yawning yet again, he decided it could wait until morning. His mind wandered and he imagined Jesse and himself heading their band, Bulimic Pork. Both sang, but Jesse was guitar and he was bass. Meowth was their drummer.

He could hear their first song… they could call it "Convicted Potpourri."

An ungraceful snort burst from the woman in his arms. "You thought I was sleeping!" Her snickering persisted. "I couldn't hold it in any longer when you started singing 'Convicted Potpourri'!"

Strangely, her outburst didn't startle him like it should have. "But Jesseeee," he whined, "I wasn't singing!"

"Oh, James, of course you were! Ask that leprechaun that's always following us around."

"Meowth?" he asked, making a little more sense of her than he'd been able to all day.

"Yeah, yeah, him."

Up in his tree, Meowth slept unaware and unseen by his human companions, dreaming of top cat-dom.

"He does act like a leprechaun sometimes."

"Eeeeeeeezactly."

"Hey, Jess, ya know Marvin the Martian from Looney Tunes?"

"Oh, yeah, that little dude with the feet!"

"I think he was a leprechaun."

"Good call, Jimmy."

"Who's Jimmy?"

"I dunno."

"Okay."

"Hey, Jimmy?"

"That's my name!"

"Let's…" she giggled girlishly. "Let's kiss." Squirming and wiggling, she turned herself over rather quickly so that she was facing him.

"Are you sure the big scary boss man won't get mad at us?" he anxiously questioned, now looking into her shadowed eyes.

"Like he would notice! He'd never know. I don't think his dentist spies are out tonight, anyway."

"Okay! Well, in that case…"

The two kissed very passionately for a long time. All the world around Jesse faded away and it was just them. James though was beginning to think that he wasn't just gay any more, he must be bi.

And then, they both promptly fell asleep.

Prologue

James and Jesse sued the hairdressers and got a bit of money which James spent on dohnuts. Meowth never dared to hide Jesse's hairspray again, Jessie couldn't look at James properly for over a week and she never ever cooked again. EVER THE END


End file.
